Sins of the Father (A Drarry Fic)
by the-circus-awaits
Summary: There were two things Draco was still certain of: One. He was not supposed to defy the Dark Lord or his father, but he had. Two. He was not supposed to fall in love with the Boy Who Lived, but he had. (Post-HP&tDH 7th Year Horribly OOC Drarry AU)
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

Draco Malfoy was an outcast.

There were many things Draco Malfoy had done, many things he could say he had been in his life, but an outcast was _definitely_ not one of them.

And why would Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune, be an outcast? Because of the snake and skull tattooed on his forearm. The tattoo that he thought would have kept him from finishing his schooling at the very least, but now just left a big, great, dark mark of shame for himself and all his peers to see, and all thanks to Potter.

After the war, Draco assumed his schooling was through. The Malfoys, while losing all respect from the wizarding community and all influence in the ministry, had been as close to forgiven as they could get when they switched sides last minute. (Bah. Last minute? Draco knew what he was doing. The Dark Lord wasn't anywhere near what he was cracked up to be, but when his headquarters was your house, what were you supposed to do if not follow him? His parents, well, they still looked at his fall as a great horrible disaster. Lucius switched sides only for himself, and Draco very well knew that.)

But no, his schooling wasn't through, because the great Harry Potter, Chosen One, Boy Who Lived, had to step in. Precious Potter, trying to forgive everyone and make everything alright in the world.

And that is how Draco came to be an outcast to the entire school. When he ate, he'd only make brief appearances in the great hall to grab a roll and jam or a sausage before disappearing again to eat alone in some secret passageway or other. He tried to hide in the Room of Requirement sometimes, and found a nice little room with a table and a window, but felt sick when he thought of the fire and his dead friend. Only a week into school and he was already missing classes, hiding from the people he once saw as friends, or even from the people who once cowered when they saw him.

To Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws he was an outcast for being the son of a Death Eater, for being a Death Eater himself. To Slytherins he was an outcast for switching sides, for renouncing the Dark Lord, and for praising the end of a war that the Slytherin purebloods seemed to feel had been 'lost for the worse.' And to Harry Potter, Quidditch Captain, Head Boy, the Chosen One, what was he? A pity case. Yes, Harry Potter was looking at him with _pity_ , an emotion Draco would never have expected. Harry Potter's pity mixed into the confusion left inside of the hollow Malfoy boy, filled his head with a sense of hurt pride and butterflies. Yes, butterflies.

There were two things Draco was still certain of:

One. He was not supposed to defy the Dark Lord or his father, but he had.  
Two. He was _not_ supposed to fall in love with the Boy Who Lived, but he had.


	2. The Boy Who Survived

**Chapter One: The Boy Who Survived**

Harry Potter hadn't had much time to think about his feelings in the past several years. He tried with Cho, but that was a disaster. And Ginny? Well... he couldn't put his finger on it. Ginny was Ginny, she was Ron's sister, she was beautiful and funny and caring, but...

Something was missing. And he couldn't figure out what it was.

As they sat at breakfast on Friday, Ginny was droning on and on about Quidditch, about try-outs, about going to Hogsmeade, about this and that to the point that Harry felt himself let out a groan. "Ginny, I honestly haven't heard a thing you've said for the last twelve minutes," he mumbled, receiving a surprised look from Hermione, who was sitting across from him and beside Ron.

"I was talking about Quidditch," Ginny replied. "You're kind of Quidditch Captain, you know? You should care."

"No offense, Ginny," he could feel his voice raising as his chest tightened, "but considering that four months ago I was fighting Voldemort right where we're sitting, I really don't care about Quidditch."

"I thought it was life as normal?" Ginny asked quietly. "I thought that was what you wanted."

In truth, yes, Harry had told her that he wanted life as normal, but he didn't really understand what a normal life _was_. Weeks of funerals, months of "are you okay" and "it's all over now" and "how are you doing, Harry," and he had thought what he wanted was normalcy. He told her life as normal, because the words he wanted were always in the back of his head. He couldn't even talk about it to Hermione, or Ron. He couldn't face them and say what he was thinking. "Life as normal," he repeated quietly, before his voice rose slightly again, "I can't think of Quidditch or dates or Hogsmeade right now. Not here. I'm sorry."

Ron looked sideways at Hermione as Harry stood up and walked away from the table, leaving his three friends in a stunned silence. He could feel all the eyes in his room staring at him. He threw open the doors of the Great Hall only to find himself face-to-face with icy eyes, white-blond hair, and a sharp, blank face. He felt pity for Malfoy, in a strange way. He felt his stomach jump as he saw the boy, but he let it fade fast. He bumped shoulders with the taller boy as he shoved passed him, and made his way towards the staircase.

xXx

Draco Malfoy hadn't eaten for two days, and he was finally feeling the effects of hunger that forced him down to the Great Hall. What he hadn't expected, however, was hearing someone yelling about the Dark Lord as he approached the doors to the Great Hall. His feet felt like lead as he approached, slowly. He didn't want to get caught in the middle of whatever was happening when the Dark Lord was being brought up.

When he reached the door, he hesitated with his hands over the handles. He was considering turning around and maybe sneaking down to the kitchen to see if he could get some food from one of the House Elves, but didn't have time to move before the heavy doors swung open and he found himself face-to-face with messy black hair and bright green eyes.

He was taken aback, and before he could throw on a sneer or make a comment, he was being knocked back a step as the smaller boy shoved him out of his way. There was a continued silence in the Great Hall as thousands of eyes stared at Draco in the doorway, before it was broken by a thousand voices all at once. Draco's eyes trailed over to the Gryffindor table, wondering if the Mudblood or one of the Weasels would go after Harry, but instead he saw them staying seated in a hushed conversation. He let out a long breath, before turning around and walking away from the Great Hall and his potential breakfast.

He could see the dark hair heading towards the stairs, and he followed at a distance. He didn't want to be seen, he just wanted to make sure Harry was okay. Harry shoved through groups of people walking down the staircases as he ran through, and Draco took a slower route in an attempt to avoid them, keeping Harry in sight the best he could.

He followed the boy up seven flights, until he found himself in view of a familiar hallway, and a familiar door through which Harry disappeared, his breathing sharp and shallow. Draco took a deep breath, before jumping to grab the door's handle before it could disappear.

xXx

The Room of Requirement was fairly small and empty, similar to what Draco found when he came here himself, but it was different, brighter, more comfortable. Instead of dark grey walls, it had mirrors, and a light hanging from the ceiling to illuminate the room. There wasn't a window, but there was a fireplace in the wall, and a pair of worn-looking red armchairs. Draco regretted entering as soon as he did, but it was too late. The door shut softly behind him, and he found the black-haired boy turning around to face him. He looked absolutely horrified, and absolutely horrible, and Draco wanted to run up and hug him, but he knew he couldn't.

"Malfoy," Harry said blankly, blinking his teary eyes and seemingly holding his breath in an attempt to make it seem less as though he had moments ago been fighting for each breath.

"Potter," was all Draco could manage in return, watching as the slightly younger boy seemed to crumble, falling into one of the armchairs. Draco didn't know what to do as Harry shattered, didn't know what could have triggered it, didn't know how he could help someone who had thought of him as an enemy. "P-Potter?"

Harry didn't seem to be able to catch his breath as he stared at the mirrored wall beside the fireplace. Draco took a few steps closer, before stopping himself. "I've been coming here sometimes," Draco said, not knowing what to do besides talking. "When I do, I think of what happened and," he was looking into the fire, "and how you saved my life." Was that when the final strings snapped and he admitted to himself that there was something besides hatred in him when he saw Harry? He wasn't sure, but it was the moment that came to mind.

"Happy that I saved someone."

"You saved a lot of people, actually."

Harry turned his head to look at Draco, his eyes narrowed behind his round glasses. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"Well, Mudblood and the weasels were just continuing on with their breakfast."

"Since when do you care?"

"You saved my life."

"Life as normal," Harry said quietly.

"My life can't go back to normal," Draco replied. "My father... I made mistakes."

"Mistakes? You were helping Voldemort."

"Yeah," Draco finally dared to cross Harry and sit in the other armchair, "and what was I supposed to do when the Dark Lord held all of his meetings in my dining hall? Say, 'sorry, my political views differ slightly and include less genocide'?"

"You just called Hermione a Mudblood."

"Yeah, well, doesn't mean I want her dead."

Harry looked into the mirror again. "Do you think about it a lot?"

"I do," Draco replied without hesitation. "And you?"

"I try not to," Harry admitted. Draco looked around the fireplace to Harry's reflection, watching a tear trail down the darker boy's face. "I can't always help it."

"It's not your fault, you know," Draco said.

"Your dad isn't your fault either," Harry countered.

Draco was quiet for a moment, his eyes falling to the floor. "Why are you talking to me?" he asked, finally. It was unlike Harry, but he supposed that the war could change people. It changed him.

"Hermione, Ginny and Ron stayed in the Great Hall," Harry replied. "You're not my first choice, Malfoy, but that's the difference. You just gave up breakfast to follow your sworn enemy up seven floors and into a small room to talk about our feelings."

Draco chuckled ever so slightly. "Yeah, I guess. I just didn't... well, I was worried you'd do something _stupid_ if you were alone."

Harry looked sideways at him. "Stupid how?"

"Well, I mean, I didn't want you to get hurt or something. After all, there was kind of a whole battle based around your survival – "

"Exactly," Harry replied. "We have to keep surviving, don't we? We owe that to the people who died in that war."

"I guess so..." He felt his hand trail to his dark mark, his fingers digging into the pale, painted flesh.

"You're not – "

"No." Draco said it firmly. It wasn't a lie, just because he thought of things didn't mean he'd done them or mean they needed to be brought up. Harry had seemed to breathe again, seemed to stop crying, so the blond stood up. "You're better now. I have places to be."

And he was out the door before Harry could say another word.


	3. Harry Potter's Boyfriend

_**Chapter Two: Harry Potter's Boyfriend**_

Draco didn't even look at Harry for the rest of the day. They passed in hallways and sat in the same row during classes, but he kept his head down and his mouth closed.

What do you say to someone who you had just watched break, who you tried to help, who you want to help, because you maybe kind of have a crush on them when you know they don't like you and you shouldn't even maybe kind of have a crush on them?

It wasn't until that night, after dinner, when the Chosen One stopped him in the hallway and forced him into a conversation. "Look, Malfoy," he said, pulling Draco behind a suit of armor near the staircase on the first floor, "earlier, could you just–"

"– not talk about it? I can do that. In fact, that's what I was doing before you decided that to even be seen speaking to me you needed to hide," Draco sneered.

"We're not exactly friends, Malfoy."

Draco looked down at the shorter boy, scowling. "Yeah, some friends you have, though. Where are Mudblood and the Weasel, eh?"

"I told them I needed to look for Ginny," Harry replied. "And stop calling Hermione that. You may have been forgiven for what you did during the war, but that doesn't excuse you being a jerk."

" _Forgiven_?!" Draco scoffed. "You call this forgiveness? I'm tolerated and punished for my parent's sins as well as my own mistakes."

"Mistakes? You killed people –"

"I did not kill anyone."

"You were working with _Voldemort_ and you expect anyone to believe that?"

"Don't forget who refused to tell them who you were that day, Potter. Don't forget whose wand you have. As I said before, what would you do if the Dark Lord was living in your _house_? Ask him to join you for tea while discussing your different political opinions?" Draco let his anger seep out with every word, but he kept finding himself focusing on those green eyes staring up at him, and that somehow made him angrier, until he was nearly yelling every word louder and more intensely. "I thought we covered this earlier? Or do you only practice this love and forgiveness and understanding that you preach about when you need someone to listen to your mental breakdowns?"

He could feel eyes on them, but he was staring deep into the drops of green that lit up Harry's face.

"I just wanted to ask if we could talk more, you kind of left earlier."

Harry's words rang hollow in Draco's head, like he couldn't comprehend them.

"We're the golden boys from different sides and I thought that counted for something."

Draco's heart nearly beat out of his chest.

"You seem to get it, somewhat."

Draco's mouth must've dropped, and Harry looked up at him with a slightly taken aback look. Draco reached his hand out slightly, feeling the sudden urge to just touch Harry in the closeness, and was trying to form words when they heard a cackle above them and looked up to see Peeves the Poltergeist floating above the suit of armor. Before either boy could move, the suit of armor was thrown to the ground by the poltergeist, who cackled again as the two were exposed to onlookers exiting dinner.

"Potty-wee-Potter and the traitor sitting in a tree," Peeves sang out. Draco's hand dropped to his side as he looked at all the people staring at them, "S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G. Potty's got a boyfriend. What would Miss Ginny say?"

Harry was staring at a spot on the staircase, and Draco followed his gaze, to see he was looking at Ginny Weasley with an apologetic look while receiving a look of anger in return. Draco backed away from Harry, bumping into a few second years before taking off into the dungeons. Harry swallowed, seemingly unable to move with all the eyes on him.

xXx

That night was the worst Draco had experienced since start of term. Every time he was seen someone would start singing at him.

"Potter and Malfoy sitting in a tree, S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G!"

Someone had drew numerous copies of a stick-figure illustration to go along with the song and enchanted it, Draco kept finding it different places no matter what he did to the one he had already found, so he guessed someone was copying it and putting it everywhere. He couldn't even sit in the common room to finish his homework. He soon found himself leaving the common room and heading up the stairs. He didn't really know where he was going, walking aimlessly with his book bag hanging from his shoulder and hitting his thigh with every step.

Before he knew what was happening, he found himself in front of the Room of Requirement, his hand turning the handle and walking into the dark room it always created for him. He let out a short breath and threw his book bag across the room. It was only then that he realized that the table which stood in the room was not its usual square elm, but a round mahogany with an armchair on either side. Since start of term he had come here every day, and every day the room was the same, but he decided not to give it much thought. He sat down in one of the armchairs and found himself almost instantaneously asleep.

xXx

Draco woke up with the first beams of sunlight streaming through the window. He was curled up in the chair, a blanket draped over him that he didn't recall covering himself with. He looked around the room and noticed the telescope had been dragged away from the window and the other armchair dragged closer. Someone had been in the room, he knew. He lit his wand with a whispered "Lumos" only to find the room void of any other human life. The sun continued rising on the horizon, filling the room with the dim sunlight until Draco decided to extinguish his wand. He sunk back into the armchair, leaning with his elbows on his knees, until he noticed a scrap of parchment left on the mahogany tabletop.

 _The room would be warmer with a fireplace, but I fancy the window. – H_

Draco read the letters several times before he could process it. H? Harry? Well, of course it was Harry, who else would've been here? But _why._

Well, he supposed that Harry had to deal with taunting from the Gryffindors, too. Maybe he had come to escape them. Did the magic in the room somehow know Harry would come there, too? Was that why it produced two armchairs for Draco?

He stared out the window, trying to think it over as the sun slowly rose and he slowly drifted back into sleep.


	4. The Golden Boy

_**Chapter Three: The Golden Boy**_

Ginny was, Harry thought, rather calm about her boyfriend being called gay by almost everyone in school. She was also, he supposed, rather calm when Romilda Vane asked if they were beards, and if Ginny was secretly dating Luna Lovegood as well. She was also, he would say, justifiably pissed when Jimmy Peakes tripped a fourth year Ravenclaw boy on the stairs, so that he would fall down and straight into Harry's face. (He did not touch Harry's lips, but no matter how much Harry, Ginny and the Ravenclaw insisted of this, everyone else was laughing as though it were the funniest thing in the world.)

By the time they got to the Common Room, it had apparently gotten back ahead of them, as Ron and Hermione immediately jumped into questioning what was going on.

"Harry, for whatever reason," Ginny started explaining, "was talking to Malfoy, and Peeves decided to call it something else."

"What about the Ravenclaw?" Hermione asked.

"Peakes thought it'd be hilarious if he tripped a fifteen-year-old down a flight of stairs," Harry replied tiredly as Jimmy walked by smirking.

"You'd think they'd have some better things to laugh about," Ron said, looking around the room. "Why's it so amusing for them to talk about two blokes snogging? It's bloody disgusting, actually."

Harry felt uncomfortable at Ron's comment about it being disgusting, he couldn't quite place why, but he shrugged. "Apparently we've just lost our sense of humor."

"What _were_ you doing talking to Malfoy, anyway?" Hermione asked quietly, giving Harry a curious look.

"It's not important," Harry replied. He didn't want to tell her about their conversation in the Room of Requirement, didn't even want to explain that it wasn't anger that made him run out of breakfast.

"HARRY AND MALFOY SITTING IN A TREE! S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G!"

Harry cursed as a group of fourth and fifth years started chanting. "Can we just not talk about this right now?" he asked, clenching his fist.

"We're not going to be getting any sleep, mate," Ron said. "Seamus and Dean are probably going to have a field day with this." Harry shook his head and walked up to the boy's dormitory. He knew Ron was right, he'd probably never hear the end of it here. He threw open his trunk and dug to the bottom, his hands finding the silky material of his invisibility cloak. He thought back to last year, to the Deathly Hallows, and he sighed as he stood up, letting the cloak unravel from the fold it was in at the bottom of the trunk. He turned around, letting the cloak drape from his hands to the floor. He kicked the lid of the trunk shut behind him and put the cloak on before walking down the stairs and out the portrait hole.

He walked the halls, unsure what he was doing or where he was going, before he reached the Room of Requirements. He paced in front of it, the thought in his mind, _I need a place to be. A place to think._

The doors appeared in front of him and he slipped inside. He let the cloak slide from his body and pool around him on the floor. He was slightly thrown off by the room, taking it in slowly. The walls were grey and so was the floor, there was a window with a telescope looking out at the lake, the moon and stars shining in. There was a round mahogany table against the wall, two black armchairs, on either side of the table, faced the window. One armchair was draped with a blanket as black as the chair it was on, in the other, curled up and looking as though he were being tortured in his sleep, was a thin boy with white-blond hair and sharp feature that were even more illuminated in the moon light.

Harry felt something pulling at his chest at the sight of Draco, and he took a step forward, frowning at Draco's pained expression as he slept. He noticed Draco was shivering, and did consider that the room was awfully cold. He picked up the blanket and draped it across the boy. He caught sight of a leather book bag thrown in the floor and picked it up, looking for a quill and parchment. He didn't intend to be caught here, but he would let Draco know that somebody was there. After digging through Draco's books he finally found a small scrap of parchment, stained from something or other, and a fine quill and inkpot and scribbled a note to Draco in what he hoped was readable handwriting.

 _The room would be warmer with a fireplace, but I fancy the window. – H_

He placed the parchment on the table, returned the ink and quill to the book bag, and sat down in the unoccupied armchair. He stared at the blond boy for a while, knowing that any moment he could wake up, but, for a reason he couldn't quite figure, he didn't want to leave him alone. As Draco's pained expressions began to fade to calm, his breaths falling heavier as he went into a deeper sleep, Harry stood up and, quietly as he could, moved the telescope to an empty corner of the room and dragged his armchair to sit just to the side of the window and angled to look out at the stars and the lake. He supposed he dozed off at some point, awaken at sunrise by a gasp from Draco.

He jumped up, worried that Draco had woken as well, only to find that the boy was still unconscious, but looked uncomfortable again and began to stir. Harry rushed across the room, his foot hooking on the edge of the chair and causing him to trip. He let out a noise that made Draco seem to jerk awake, barely leaving Harry enough time to get the invisibility cloak back on before Draco could notice him.

He stood in the spot previously occupied by the armchair he had moved, a hand over his mouth to try to mask his breathing. Draco gained consciousness and looked surprised. He whispered "Lumos" and lit the room, before standing up and looking around. Harry didn't know how long the boy looked around, before he finally happened across the parchment Harry had nearly forgotten leaving on the table. He read it several times, before sinking back into his armchair with what Harry thought was a smile on his lips.

Draco's blond hair was illuminated by the early morning rays of sunlight, making it seem less white and more golden, leaving a warm glow around him. His features seemed dazed and relaxed, the way they can only look when you feel safe yet totally vulnerable, when you think you're alone or in a place of complete acceptance and delayed worries. Harry stayed and watched the boy as he fell asleep again. When he was sure that Draco would not be awakened again, he tiptoed to the door, not daring to cover the boy with the blanket he had dropped when he stood for fear of waking him up once more. As he exited the Room of Requirement, he looked back at the sleeping figure one more time, trying to determine exactly why his stomach felt like it was full of butterflies.

The heavy doors shut quietly. Harry stood in the hallways for a long time.


	5. Draco Malfoy's Boyfriend

**_Chapter Four: Draco Malfoy's Boyfriend_**

It had been a week since he had fallen asleep in the Room of Requirement, and Draco and Harry were both seemingly making points of avoiding each other. Peeves still flew through the halls singing about their love and getting laughs from the students, but as the week progressed the jokes seemed to wear thin. Draco was back to just being ignored and only occasionally ridiculed for the traitor that he was.

That was, until Sunday afternoon, when Draco found himself pressed up again the cracked tile wall of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, being held there by the firm grip and rough kiss of a seventh year Slytherin named Peter.

Before Hogwarts was taken over the previous year, Peter would have been a year behind Draco. He had kept to himself, the only time Draco ever really noticed him was in Dueling club in his second year, so he was rather taken aback when the boy had approached him in the library and, instead of taunting him, had leaned down and whispered in his ear to follow him if he'd like to screw around. And next thing Draco knew, they were in the girl's bathroom and Draco, being lighter and seemingly less experienced than the slightly younger boy, was soon against the wall almost unsure what to do as the boy's tongue explored his mouth.

His heart was pounding, he felt hot, barely able to breathe. As Draco shivered, Peter drew back, allowing Draco to let out a labored breath. Peter's hands still held onto Draco's forearms, keeping him against the wall. "You don't do this often?" he asked. Draco shook his head, nervously. "So you _weren't_ screwing around with Harry Potter?" Draco shook his head more violently. "Is this... is this your first time being with a boy?" Draco opened his mouth, going to bluff and say it wasn't, but his voice seemed lost so he just nodded. Peter grinned. "I'm sorry," he said carefully, "I should be gentler, shouldn't I?" He released Draco's forearms and leaned against the side of a cubicle, watching the blond for a long moment.

"What?" Draco spat after a moment of catching his breath.

"You and Potter, that's not a thing?"

Draco shook his head. " _No_."

"But you _are_ gay?" Draco felt like his throat was swelling on that word. He wasn't. His father would never allow that, never accept that, especially if what made him realize the possibility was Harry Potter. He wasn't... He wasn't... He couldn't even think the word. His eyes must have shown what was going on in his head, because Peter ran a hand through his brown hair and took a step closer to him again.

"It's okay," Peter said, his hands finding their way to Draco's shoulders. "I won't tell. You know about me, too, Malfoy."

Draco frowned when Peter called him Malfoy. Was that a proper way of addressing someone you just made out with for God knows how long?

"The first Hogsmeade trip is next weekend," Peter continued, seeming to either not notice or completely ignore Draco's frown, "would you like to go with me? Like a date? We don't have to go to Madame Pudifoot's or anything. We could just go to the Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head or something, make it look like we're just friends. You don't have a lot of those, I can tell. Everyone kind of hates you, honestly."

Draco's frown grew bigger at that. "Oh, but you don't hate me?"

"Of course not," Peter had a sly look in his eye as he leaned closer and pecked Draco on the lips.

"Okay." But some part of Draco was imagining Harry pecking him on the lips, Harry putting his arms on his shoulders, Harry walking down the streets of Hogsmeade, hand-in-hand at his side.

"Great," Peter replied. He pressed Draco back against the wall, and Draco played along, still uncomfortable and unsure how to process what was going on and not completely comfortable because all he could think about was _what if this was Harry_. After a while, Peter grew tired and bid farewell with a nearly giddy, "See you around, Malfoy!"

Draco found himself alone in the bathroom, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up against his chest, crying.

xXx

Draco did not speak to Peter again for two days, until he felt like someone was following him after Transfiguration and decided to dart into a secret passage on his way to lunch, only to find himself grabbed from behind and pushed against the wall with all the force of the stronger boy's lips.

"I couldn't wait until Saturday to see you, Malfoy," Peter had whispered, his hot breath blowing against Draco's neck. Draco let out a slight squeaking noise, but didn't attempt to push Peter away.

In all truth, Draco liked not only the positive attention, but he also quite enjoyed the snogging. He did not quite know his feelings for Peter, but he knew that he enjoyed the snogging bit a lot more than he ever had with Pansy, at least sometimes, when Peter was being gentler and not smashing him into a wall with all the ferocity of a thousand dragon's fire. And sometimes he could think of Harry and it made it feel nicer to imagine that Harry was the one snogging him. He knew he shouldn't have enjoyed it, should've been repulsed, should've thrown the boy away and hexed him and shamed him and used his charm to talk one of the younger, more impressionable girls into looking past the disgrace that now was the Malfoy name, but as long as Peter was still keeping it a secret he didn't see why he would do that.

But when the snogging was done, and Peter left him in the secret passageway by himself, Draco found himself collapsed on the ground crying, again. And he didn't know why and he didn't like it.

This happened again on Tuesday night after dinner in a broom cupboard in the dungeon, and again on Thursday in an empty classroom after Charms, and once more on Friday twenty yards into the Forbidden Forest after a Care Of Magical Creatures lesson. Draco didn't quite enjoy that one, because Peter was getting rougher and didn't want to talk and the tree Draco was being pushed into hurt his back and Draco thought that maybe sometimes he'd like to be the one pushing Peter up against things while he enjoyed the control of being the one doing most of the kissing. And when Peter was doing things that Draco didn't like, he couldn't pretend it was Harry.

By the time Saturday and the trip to Hogsmeade rolled around, Draco wasn't very much looking forward to his "date" with Peter. And to top it off, Harry was still seemingly avoiding him, not that he actively sought out the boy, the Slytherins still decided to give him hell any time they were bored, and the Room of Requirement seemed to mock him every night when he'd go there to work on homework.

One of the black armchairs were now red, and the wall opposite the door now held a warm fireplace.

xXx

Draco sat with Peter in the Three Broomsticks, a butterbeer untouched in front of him as Peter drank from his own.

"So, how are you enjoying classes?" Peter asked awkwardly.

"Fine, I guess. We have the same classes."

"Right, right. I was just, y'know, making small talk."

Draco finally grabbed his butterbeer and took a sip. "Of course," he replied. "What does your father do again?"

"He's an auror, actually."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Peter looked down at his nearly empty pint. "He told me to stay away from you, because of your dad," he downed what was left in it and set it down before shining Draco a charming smile, "but you see, what I figure is, if you can overlook my dad being an auror, I can overlook your dad being a Death Eater."

Just then, Draco caught sight of none other than Harry Potter, holding hands with Ginny Weasley, and followed by none other than the similarly intertwined Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, entering the vicinity. He met Harry's green eyes for a moment and felt his heart pick up speed in his chest. He and the dark-haired boy stared for just a moment, long enough, however, that Draco was sure Harry was looking directly at him on purpose, before Harry turned his head to laugh at something Ginny was saying.

"I was a Death Eater." Draco wasn't sure why he said it, but he did, and if it were to do any damage he knew it had already been done.

"Yeah, but you're cute. So I can overlook a stupid tattoo. Ever think of removing that?"

"What?"

"The tattoo."

"It doesn't just... you can't just take it off... it's a really powerful spell –"

"Force it off."

Draco's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"Force it off. There are spells that could do damage to you, get rid of it." Peter was deadpan, Draco knew his eyes lit up in surprise because the younger boy erupted into laughter. "I'm only joking. Jesus, Malfoy. Lighten up." Draco let out a shallow, uncomfortable chuckle. He looked across the room and saw green eyes staring at him again, and he met them. Peter seemed to notice Draco not paying attention to him and followed his gaze. Grimacing, he tossed down a galleon on the table and grabbed Draco's hand.

"Let's go somewhere more private," he said, pulling the blond to his feet. "I don't like the look the Mudblood-lover and his friends are giving you. You're supposed to be all mine today, right?"

Draco swallowed, before following Peter out of the Three Broomsticks.

xXx

Peter insisted that they should go back amongst their respective groups of friends (Draco noted that Peter only seemed to remember that most of the school disliked him when it was beneficial) and then return to the school separately after they had ran into Harry, Ron, and Hermione, because he didn't want anyone to get any ideas. So, he left Draco in an alley with instructions to count to sixty before following.

When Draco finally stepped out into the Hogsmeade street, he found himself stumbling through a crowd of students, trying to force his way through. He felt someone shove him, causing him to trip on a hole in the cobblestone. He close his eyes, sure he'd fall flat on his face, when he felt something catch him. Opening his eyes again, he once more met the bright green ones of none other than Harry Potter.


	6. Acceptance

**_Chapter Five: Acceptance_**

If the Hogwarts rumor mill needed any more fuel, it was found in Harry Potter standing in the middle of a busy street in Hogsmeade, holding Draco Malfoy in his arms and staring into his eyes.

Draco was mortified, but all he could find in Harry's eyes was complete blankness and a hint of concern. After a heavy moment, Harry pulled Draco slightly so that he'd be on his feet, but somehow Draco's hands ended up on Harry's chest. He could feel the smaller boy's heartbeat and it made his own skip. Once he processed that people were watching, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Peter included, he took a step back and blinked. Harry continued staring at him, his expression confusingly blank. Draco didn't know what to do, so he decided to dart down a side street and never look back.

He was not looking forward to being in the common room that night.

xXx

Something clicked in Harry's head when he saw Draco falling. He considered himself lucky to be there to catch the boy. Feeling the light weight in his arms as Draco's full weight leaned into him made his heart skip a beat. And he thought he was beginning to understand why.

He set the boy down on his feet and found the taller boy's hands on his chest. He looked up into the icy eyes, unsure what to say or do because his stomach felt funny and he didn't want to move. When Draco finally realized that people were watching him, he moved away and took off down a different street. Harry wanted to go after him, but Ginny was now standing at his side with her hand wrapped around his and he couldn't move his feet.

"Let's go," she said, tugging him up the road with Hermione and Ron close behind.

xXx

Draco didn't even go into the Great Hall that evening, he expected the worst these days, and quite frankly he was too exhausted to deal with it. He roamed the nearly-empty halls for a while, before finally making his way upstairs and into the familiar corridor that housed the Room of Requirement.

The room was very similar to the night Harry had snuck in and found Draco asleep, except for the armchair nearest the door which was now the Gryffindor shade of red, and the wall opposite the door had a fireplace built into it. Draco didn't like the fire, but it was always roaring when he came in and he had to extinguish it.

He had to admit, though, that Harry was correct in saying the room was warmer with it. He had spent a few nights sleeping there, and that was the only time he would leave the fire ablaze.

Draco entered the room and set his book bag down on the floor, leaning it against the leg of the telescope. He extinguished the fire, ran a hand through his hair and crossed to the black armchair, sitting down in it and staring down the window. He stomach growled, but he ignored it. He was not going downstairs, he did not have the energy to pester the House Elves, and he worried that if he left the room and asked it to give him food, when he returned it may be different. Maybe it wouldn't have Harry's chair, he guessed the chair was the kind that sat in Gryffindor tower, and he wanted it to stay there.

He wasn't sure how long he stared out the window, watching the sun set over the lake, when the door flew open and shut in a quick movement, and Harry appeared in front of it with his Invisibility cloak falling to the ground. Draco blinked, taken aback by the sudden appearance of someone who'd been avoiding him for a week.

Harry looked uncomfortable, unsure what to say. "You weren't at dinner."

Draco stared at him blankly. Why was he noticing when he didn't show up for dinner? Why did he _care_? "I... I lose my appetite when I go anyway."

"When you fell earlier, you're really light. Have you been eating?"

Draco frowned. "Yes."

"Really?"

Draco made a noise in reply.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out two scones. "I know it's not much, but I thought you might be hungry." He set them on the table, each movement he made seemed awkward and measured.

Draco was taken aback by the kindness. "Thank you," he said carefully. Harry stood back, watching him, but Draco didn't move to pick up the food.

"It's cold in here," Harry said after a moment. If he noticed the red armchair, he didn't mention it. He walked passed Draco, as though he were used to the room, and straight to the fireplace. He flicked his wand at the logs Draco had extinguished, muttering, " _Incendio_." The logs exploded with flames, and Draco couldn't help but flinch slightly. Harry's back was to him, looking at the fire as he pocketed his wand. "Do you come here a lot?" he asked.

"Increasingly."  
"Do you bring that guy you had at the Three Broomsticks?"

"No, God. You think that was what – a date? It wasn't. You sound jealous, Potter?" His voice was void of the venom that normally would've gone into that statement. He didn't even know why he said it, he immediately regretted it.

"No. I have Ginny."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Trust me, _everybody knows_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry turned around to look at Draco.

"Well, the girl's been in love with you since she started school. It's no secret. Quite honestly it's a bit annoying, watching the way she looks at you."

"What about the way you look at me?"

Draco swallowed. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Harry crossed the room, moving to stand by the window and look outside. "Look, I didn't notice at first, but Ginny sees it."

"Sees what? You're mad."

"The way you look, Draco." Draco couldn't help but think how nice it was to hear Harry say his name, before he caught himself and cursed in his head. "I didn't notice at first, but I notice now."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

" _The way you look at me_ ," Harry turned around to look at Draco again, clearly getting frustrated. "It's how Hermione looked at Ron when he was dating Lavender."

"What are you trying to imply, Potter?" Draco was on his feet now, too, trying his best to look offended and angry even though he knew what Harry was getting at and maybe wanted someone other than Peter to say it.

"I..." Harry seemed to falter. "I'm... Draco do you... are you... Screw it –"

And with that Harry had stepped forward, his hands on Draco's neck as he pressed their lips together, standing on his tiptoes to reach the taller boy's lips. Draco was shocked for a moment, his eyes opened and his hands hanging limply at his sides, before he comprehended what was happening. His arms wrapped around Harry, one hand on the back of Harry's neck and the other on the small of his back, holding him as close as he could.

It wasn't a rough kiss like when Peter kissed him. Harry was soft, and warm, and gentle, and vulnerable just like Draco was. Harry didn't try to force his tongue into Draco's mouth and every movement was slow and careful and Draco could feel a million butterflies exploding in his stomach as he kissed the smaller boy. He may have stood there for one second or a million, but when their lips finally broke apart, all Draco could do was look down into Harry's green eyes, his own icy ones tearing up. Harry was looking up at him, seeming to be in shock with his own actions. Neither boy tried to move away from the other for a long moment, until Draco felt the tears begin spilling down his cheeks and her stepped back and turned around, facing the corner just to avoid looking into those green eyes any longer.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"I'm not gay." Draco said it louder than he meant to, nearly yelling. It was followed by a long pause before Harry spoke again.

"Okay."  
"You shouldn't have done that, Potter."

"Okay."

"Don't ever touch me again."

"If that's what you want."

Another long pause.

"Are you crying, Draco?"

"Go away."

"Draco..." Harry stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I SAID GO AWAY."

Harry didn't move. "Draco, it's okay, you know?"

"You don't understand."

"Draco –"

"I'm not gay."

" _Okay_ , you're not gay. Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying. Screw off."

"Draco, I'm trying to help."

Draco turned to face Harry, ready to yell and scream, but he saw that pair of green eyes staring up at him, and he broke. His breaths caught in his chest, his heart pounding. "You don't understand, Harry."

"I'm trying to."

Draco shook his head. "Why did you have to go and do that?"

"I just... I hadn't noticed it before. I hadn't noticed you before. I never had time to think about it. But I realized something – I'd quite like to notice you a lot more."

Draco still had hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Harry _didn't understand_. This wasn't okay. The Malfoy name was fallen enough without him being... being... without him falling in love with Harry Potter. And he knew that his father was not going to be happy hearing about this.

"You have a girlfriend," was all Draco could think of to say. An obvious fact that he was quite sure Harry didn't care about, considering he just kissed him.

"Maybe I don't want a girlfriend."

"But you have one."

"I suppose I do."

"This isn't happening." Draco moved to walk passed Harry and to the door, but he was stopped by Harry saying, "Wait," and sticking out his arm to stop him. He turned to tell Harry once more to screw off, but his words were stopped by Harry's lips pressing onto his again, and he knew that this time he was making the choice in accepting Harry or pushing him away and giving up this opportunity at happiness.

He chose the former.

It was only a moment before Draco had stumbled backward into the red armchair, Harry's lips still moving with his own. Harry sat in Draco's lap, his kiss becoming sloppy as his hands ran through Draco's hair. Draco held the smaller boy in his arms, his hands tracing Harry's spine as they snogged, all fear and tears forgotten.

xXx

When they finally started getting tired, they didn't move except for Harry to fall sideways against Draco's chest, his head resting between Draco's neck and shoulder. They were both breathing heavy, Draco's arms still wrapped around Harry and Harry's hand over Draco's heart, feeling the beating.

"That just happened," Draco said blankly.

"Yeah." Harry was worried. He didn't want Draco to start crying again, and he didn't want Draco to look scared again, because he didn't know how to make Draco happy and he didn't know what Draco was scared of yet. He just wanted Draco to want this to be happening, as he had suspected he did.

Draco let his head droop against Harry's, not saying a word as they both drifted to sleep.


End file.
